


How To Solve A Problem Like Alyna

by Soraan



Series: Farstrider Chronicles - Short Stories [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 14:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13148958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soraan/pseuds/Soraan
Summary: Alyna applies to join the Farstrider Academy. Set 127 years before the Second War and Fires of Rebirth. Part of the Farstrider Chronicles. Short story. Complete.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Alyna sat nervously on the grass, trying not to fidget. Around her, other youths were also waiting, but they were far more relaxed than she was. They sat in small groups, laughing and telling stories related to why they were here today; the Farstriders were recruiting. The event only happened once in four or five years, and the recruiters would only be in Silvermoon City for two days. Today was the second day. She had showed up yesterday but had lost her nerve after seeing all the skilled-looking prospects.

Nearby, parents stood casually, talking amongst themselves. Looking at them, she knew they all had one thing in common – they were Farstriders themselves, or had been and were retired. Their children had been raised in the tradition of the forests under the tutelage of their ranger parents, and had been given their first bow probably before they could walk.

Alyna’s parents were not amongst them. They were magisters, not Farstriders, and they had no idea their youngest daughter was here. Her bow was not a paid-for creation made by experts, but crafted by her own hand under the guidance of one of her father’s hunters, whom she had begged to help her.

She sat alone for most of the morning, with her homemade bow and three homemade arrows across her lap, waiting for her turn.

The rangers used a small enclosure within the city. It wasn’t large enough to be a base like the ones she had heard about that were dotted throughout Quel’Thalas, but it was large enough to provide for their needs while visiting the city. Somehow, the noise of the city did not reach inside despite being surrounded by it. A few small buildings dotted the grassy area, with the grandest one being used for the interviews. The hopefuls were gathered haphazardly around the archery range, waiting with differing levels of impatience.

For the hundredth time, she dug a piece of paper out of a pocket. She had scrutinised the flyer many times to make sure she had everything. Her own bow, check. Three arrows, check. Loose, comfortable clothing, check. Filled out application … she turned the flyer around to quickly scan the information she had filled out on the back … check.

Muffled giggles erupted from the group of girls sitting across from her. Alyna ignored them. Her elven ears could hear they were talking about her. She knew she was different, and tried to not take their words to heart.

“Lady Alyna Salonar?”

Alyna looked up at the ranger with the clipboard. She had not heard him approach. As she stood, the girls stared, their mouths open to various degrees. She realised she was not just the only titled elf there, but they had recognised the family name of the current grand magister of Silvermoon, who was her grandfather. Their gossiping had told her they had assumed her family was too poor to afford to buy her quality equipment. She wondered what they were thinking now as they watched her follow the ranger to her interview.

As they entered the building, Alyna was taken aback slightly by how simple the space looked. She was used to the reds, whites and golds of the city, but the décor was distinctly different within the ranger cabin. The furniture was all bare, natural woods. Earthy tones of greens, browns, and dark mahogany reds dominated. She smiled slightly, finding it very comforting and welcoming.

“Captain, this is Lady Alyna Salonar,” introduced the ranger. He looked at her, and gestured towards a female elf sitting behind a desk. “Ranger-Captain Sylvanas Windrunner.” He looked her up and down slightly before lowering his voice to a whisper, “Good luck.” She watched him leave, realising he had genuinely meant it.

His words then sunk in.

_Windrunner?_

Alyna turned to stare at the woman now regarding her with pale grey-blue eyes. The Windrunner family formed part of the ruling Council of Silvermoon, along with Alyna’s and a few other powerful families. Their current representative was a well respected magister, but what they were famous for was providing the nation with some of the most gifted rangers in living memory. Alyna had never met Sylvanas, but she had heard the gossip. For all the talent the family had, the woman before her was rumoured to be the best. She had just been promoted to captain, and was the youngest ever to earn the rank.

She took a deep breath, and walked forward. She then remembered the flyer and she tried to pass the arrows into the same hand that was holding her bow so she could pull it out of her pocket, but the manoeuvre did not happen as she hoped. One of the arrows slipped from her grip. She pulled her hand out of her pocket to try and grab it, only for her grip on her bow to loosen. The arrows and bow clattered to the floor, slowly followed by the dropped flyer.

“By the Sunwell, I’m so sorry!” She bent down to collect her things.

She didn’t hear the light scrape of the chair as the captain moved around the desk to help her, so when a hand appeared next to hers as she reached for her bow, Alyna jumped.

“It’s okay,” came the patient words. She looked up to find Sylvanas kneeling in front of her. The captain was staring at the bow she had picked up. As she examined the bow, Alyna felt transfixed. Sylvanas’ long hair was a startling colour of gold as it fell around her shoulders with her movement. Her skin was lightly tanned, and perfect. Up close, she could tell Sylvanas was wearing makeup but, unlike the trends in the city, the tones were natural and highlighted the natural beauty she already possessed. Her eyes then flicked up as she raised a perfect golden eyebrow. “Interesting bow you have here.”

Alyna felt flustered. “Uh … I … made it.”

That surprised the captain, and she sat back on her heels. “You made it?” There was a hint of disbelief in her tone.

“Yes, uh … Captain.” Was that the right way to address her? There was no correction, so she continued. “I asked one of my father’s hunters to show me how, and he did, and he then helped me find what I needed.”

Sylvanas looked at what Alyna was holding. “The arrows too?”

She nodded, mutely.

Gracefully, Sylvanas stood, holding the bow, and moved back to her desk. She gestured for Alyna to take the seat opposite her as she settled herself into her chair. She put the bow on the desk.

“Forgive my curiosity, Lady Sa—”

“Please, call me Alyna,” she managed as she grabbed the flyer and tried to get comfortable in the chair.

Sylvanas gave her a curious look. Amongst the nobility, formality was expected, and demanded. Though a ranger, Sylvanas was also from a noble family, and would be very aware of the strict etiquette of the city nobles. Inviting her to use her first name was unusual for a first meeting. Alyna had gambled that if she showed she was not attached to her title, she would show her willingness to leave behind the comforts of noble life she knew Sylvanas expected her to be attached to. The truth was, Alyna couldn’t wait to be treated like a normal person.

The captain nodded her agreement, “Alyna it is then.” She continued where she had left off. “Why did you go to the effort of making your own bow? Your family more than have the means to buy you one.”

Alyna looked at her creation. She had been very proud of it, and had practised eagerly every moment she could sneak away from her family for the last year. When she had seen the bows of the others outside though, she realised just how mediocre hers was. She felt her shoulders slump slightly. “My Father refused to buy me one, and my allowance wouldn’t cover it.” She had also tried to get a job to pay for it, but her father had been incensed. No daughter of his would be found doing ‘menial tasks’.

A golden eyebrow raised again. “I see.” Alyna realised she probably did. As she was aware of the Windrunners, Sylvanas would also know the Salonars. Her family were an unbroken line of magic-wielders. Every family looking to strengthen the magical talent in their own bloodline looked to try and marry into the Salonar line. And here was Alyna looking to become a ranger.

The captain spoke carefully, clearly trying not to offend Alyna. “You are aware that we cannot accept magi into our ranks, Alyna?”

Alyna tried to hold onto Sylvanas’ gaze. “I have no affinity for magic.” She swallowed the lump in her throat that had formed at the words. “I failed the dusting.”

Two eyebrows shot up this time in undisguised surprise. The dusting was the colloquial term for the official test done on all teenagers to determine if they possessed any magical talent. It involved placing a special magical dust into the palm of the hand. If the child had any potential for magic, the dust would react. No one in Alyna’s family had ever failed the test, so she was told. Until she came along.

“I’m … sorry,” was all Sylvanas could manage. She then added, “That must have been difficult for you.”

Alyna shrugged nonchalantly. “It is what it is.” In truth, it had been devastating. Her mother had cried for days and her father had demanded the arcane dust be tested to make sure it was genuine. When it passed the test, Alyna was retested multiple times before her father angrily accepted the results. Since that day, her father had treated her like she was broken. Her older brother and sister had done the same, with added taunting. She lost friends as they tested positive, and she had started to feel increasingly isolated. It had been the scandal of the year amongst the nobility. She figured Sylvanas had not heard about it due to not living in the city. For that, she was grateful.

The captain narrowed her eyes slightly, aware that Alyna was making light of the situation. “When did you decide you wanted to join the Farstriders?”

Alyna shifted slightly in her seat. “A year ago. My father took me to Fairbreeze Village for the installation of the new magisterix there. A Farstrider unit also happened to be about on patrol and I got to see them do a few things. One was kind enough to tell me a bit about his day to day life, and … well. I found it very appealing.”

Slowly, Sylvanas asked, “You’ve only used a bow for a year?”

Alyna blushed. “Sort of. I’ve had to hide my training from my father.”

The captain leant back in her chair. Alyna felt a knot forming in her stomach. “You’re aware that pretty much all of the successful applicants will have used a bow for ten, fifteen years, if not more?”

Alyna looked down at her arrows and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. She knew Sylvanas wasn’t being intentionally mean, but she couldn’t help but feel that she was being told it wasn’t worth her time to try. She felt the sting at the back of her eyes, and rapidly blinked away the threat of tears. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and then looked up at the waiting captain.

“I know I haven’t grown up in a ranger family, like you or those outside. But that doesn’t mean I cannot learn. You know what things are like, and you know I can’t really learn if I stay at home. I can’t just leave, because my father’s influence will always make sure I am forced to return, _unless_ I join an organisation large enough to not bow to his pressure.” She sat back in her chair, the words taking on an emotional tone as she felt like she was begging. “I’ve done everything I can to be here, and when my father finds out he will be furious that I’ve spent a year going behind his back. I know there’s more to a ranger than using a bow, and I know I can do it. All I ask for is a chance to prove I can be as good as those outside. And if I’m not … at least I tried.”

She watched the grey-blue eyes scrutinise her for a very long minute. Sylvanas then reached out and pushed Alyna’s bow towards her, before she stood and strode away from the desk. Alyna’s heart sank. She felt her grip on her arrows tighten at the rejection. How could she make the captain see she could do this?

Quiet footfalls marked the captain’s return.

“Come on then.”

Alyna looked up to see Sylvanas standing near the door. She had a quiver of arrows and what Alyna guessed to be her own bow in her other hand. The young elf’s eyes widened, and she grabbed her bow and almost ran to the door as Sylvanas opened it and strode down to the archery range. Alyna watched as the captain set up one of the targets forty feet away. She was keenly aware that all the other applicants, and their parents, were watching; their conversations having ceased with the appearance of Sylvanas.

The captain stood next to Alyna and gestured at the target. “In your own time, show me what you can do.”

Nervously, Alyna nodded. She placed two of her arrows on the ground and nocked one into the string on her bow. She raised the bow, pulled back on the string, and aimed as best she could. She fired. Though a clumsy flight, the arrow hit the target, about halfway to the centre. She heard a couple of sniggers from the onlookers, and her face burned as she tried to ignore them. She looked at Sylvanas, who gestured she fire the other two, so she did. The second arrow landed near the first, and slightly nearer the centre, and the third landed similarly to the second.

“Hand me your bow, please,” asked Sylvanas. Alyna did as requested. She watched as the captain drew back on the string a few times, her arm muscles flexing as she did so. She then rested the bow against a post, and picked up her own. She adjusted the string on her bow, and tested it a few times before she held it out to Alyna. The young woman’s jaw dropped. The bow was exquisitely crafted, with intricate elven symbols and text carved into the rare wood. Gingerly, she took hold of the grip.

“Now, let’s see what you can do with my bow, and straight arrows.”

Alyna plucked an arrow from the quiver. Immediately, she could feel it was better weighted than hers had been. The head was more streamline, and the fletching was perfect. She nocked it, and raised the bow. She felt a nervous shudder go through her body, and she lowered the bow again. She didn’t want to shoot until she was fully prepared. She breathed deeply, and then tried again. This time, she released the arrow.

It landed further away than the first three. The sniggers were not subtle this time, and she felt her face heat up.

Before she had a chance to let the wave of disappointment overwhelm her, the captain said, “Again.”

This time, as she aimed, she adjusted her aim to compensate for how far she missed with the first arrow, and then she fired.

The arrow thudded home, just inside the centre circle. The chattering behind her stopped, and she felt elation flash through her body.

“Again,” came the same command as before. This time, as she aimed, the captain interrupted, “Stop, and hold your position.”

She felt the woman move closer. A hand nudged her arm that was holding the bow up slightly. Strong fingers nudged her elbow into a different position. She felt a boot lightly tapping at her feet to adjust her footing. Her hips were moved, as were her shoulders. She could feel her shoulders, arms and fingers starting to burn with the effort of holding the bow. Then she heard quiet words at her ear, “Ignore the burning for a moment and just focus on how your body feels. Memorise this position, and when you’re ready, fire.”

Alyna nodded, and tried to focus. It felt very new, though on the whole, more comfortable. She released the arrow, and was not sad when it landed outside the centre. She knew the new position would have changed how she needed to aim. Without being told to, she took another arrow and repeated the process. It was her best one yet. She felt excited to see how her performance improved just by having proper equipment and a little expert advice.

She fired a few more arrows before Sylvanas placed a hand on her shoulder. Alyna blushed slightly when she realised she had been getting carried away.

“I think I’ve seen enough. Come back inside.” She picked up Alyna’s bow, and nodded at her own. “Bring that with you.”

The captain’s face was unreadable as she spoke, and Alyna felt a feeling of dread begin to form. She had become excited at her improvement, but did she do enough? She didn’t hit a complete bullseye, and now she worried as Sylvanas placed her bow on the desk again. She held her hand out, and Alyna gave her back her own bow, which she then placed in a weapons rack.

“Have you got your form?”

“Yes!” replied Alyna, eagerly. Surely she would only want to see it if she was going to say yes? She pulled the crumpled paper out of her pocket. Realising the condition, she tried to smooth it out on the desktop before handing it to Sylvanas.

The captain looked at the application. She then pinched the bridge of her nose, a frown forming on her face. “It’s not signed.”

Alyna fidgeted with the bottom of her tunic. “My father would never consider letting me be a ranger.”

Sylvanas gently put the flyer down on the desk. She put a hand each side and leant forward. “Alyna, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-three,” she flatly stated.

The captain sighed. “Under the law, you’re still a minor. You need familial permission to join the Farstriders as we are a military organisation.” Alyna felt her jaw drop and her body go cold. Sylvanas’ voice was heavy with regret. “I’m sorry, Alyna. I cannot accept you without consent from a parent or a senior blood relation.”

Alyna shook her head slowly. She looked at her bow, and the paper, and then at Sylvanas. “If I can get it signed, would that … would you … accept me?”

Sylvanas looked directly at her. “I won’t coddle the truth for you, Alyna. It wouldn’t be fair to do that.” She moved around the desk to stand before the young woman. “The Academy will be the most difficult challenge you face in your short life. It will test your body, your mind, your resolve, and push you to your limits. Being accepted into the Academy does not mean you’ll become a Farstrider. There are many tests, and failure would mean expulsion. But ...” She took a deep breath, “…yes. You asked for a chance. I am prepared to give it to you.” She picked the flyer up from the desk, and held it out to Alyna. “If you can get this signed, I’ll accept you into the Academy.”

Alyna’s eyes had gone wide with surprise and delight. She took the flyer and stared at it. Her face fell as she realised there was no way her father would sign it. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up into the captain’s eyes. “Does it have to be my father?”

Sylvanas shook her head. “No. Any direct blood relation can sign. Your mother qualifies, as do any of your grandparents or legally adult siblings.”

She looked at the flyer. Her mother would not defy her father, and her brother and sister were taking too much delight in her misery. She did have one relative who might listen to her. “How much time do I have?”

“We leave as soon as there is no one left outside, with all the recruits we’ve accepted. So you’ll need to also pack a bag as well as get this signed. At a guess, I would say two to three hours.” She gestured at the bow. “We’ll provide you with a new bow, so you can leave that behind.” She gave Alyna’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I hope to see you soon, Alyna.”

“Yes, Captain.” Alyna nodded. She picked up her bow and turned to leave.

“Good luck,” came the quiet words from Sylvanas.

She was definitely going to need it.


	2. Chapter 2

Alyna ran. Her green tunic and pants were loose fitting, and allowed her the freedom of movement she required. She definitely preferred them over the brightly-coloured gowns she was expected to wear most of the time. She let her feet carry her to the teleportation orbs in Sunfury Spire. The guards recognised her, and let her pass without being questioned, though they did give her attire a strange look.

She teleported to Quel’Danas, and kept running, her burgundy ponytail bouncing behind her and her bow in her hand. By the time she got to the Magister’s Terrace her tunic was sticking to her back courtesy of her sweat. As she bounded up the ramp, she made to dart through the entryway, until a long spear haft blocked her way.

“Magisters only young la—” He stopped before squinting at her panting, sweaty green form. “Young Lady Salonar! I’m sorry, I didn’t recognise you.”

“I’m here to see my grandfather,” she managed to get out.

The guard shook his head. “He left about an hour ago, with your father in fact.”

Alyna felt a lump form in her stomach. The guard wouldn’t know where they had gone, so she didn’t bother asking. She thanked him, and started walking back down the ramp. She broke into a light trot as she started heading back towards the teleportation orb. If they had gone to the Council Chambers she would never be able to get the signature. Her only hope was if they had gone home. Her grandfather didn’t live with them, but he did spend more time at her home than they did at his, so she gambled. She was going home.

* * *

 

By the time she made it home, she was red-faced and panting. An hour had already passed since she left her interview, and she was very keenly aware of the passage of time. She stumbled through the foyer of the large manor house, and stopped. Her sensitive ears flicked as she actively listened to the sounds in the home, and relief flooded her body as she heard two familiar male voices. She made her way through the corridors of her childhood home towards the back of the house where a large room with sofas, arm chairs and large windows facing south was situated.

As she entered the room, both men stopped their conversation and turned to her. Her father was a younger version of her grandfather, and slightly taller. Her grandfather, Grand Magister Belo’vir Salonar, had dark burgundy hair like her own that was streaked with grey. His robes were grander, as befitting his status. But the main stark difference between them, were their eyes. Her grandfather’s eyes twinkled and smiled at her, while her father’s were hard and disapproving.

“What, by the Sunwell, are you wearing, child? And what is that in your hand?” demanded her father.

She looked down at her bow. Her father scared her when he was angry, and she had to fight her instinct to run to her room. “It’s a bow, Father. I … went to the Farstrider compound. They’re recruiting.”

“A bow? How would you know how to use such a thing?” He stepped forward, eyeing her closely.

She held the bow to her chest, replying defensively. “I can use it! I even made it!”

He shook his head. “What nonsense. Well, now you’re home you can go clean up and change out of those rags.” He turned to rejoin his father.

“They want to recruit me, Father. Please, I really want to be a Farstrider.” Slowly, he turned to stare at her in disbelief. She held out the worn flyer. “If you sign it, I can go with them.”

For a few moments, he was speechless. She glanced at her grandfather, but his features were carefully neutral. When she looked back at her father, he erupted.

“You went behind my back and tried to sign up to the Farstriders? What on Azeroth were you thinking, child?!”

“What am I supposed to do, Father? I cannot study magic and you won’t let me take any kind of job to even pass the time! The rangers would give me a home and a purpose, and I can help the quel’dorei in my own way!”

Her father’s face turned red with rage. He moved forward and grabbed the bow out of her hand before she could pull it away. With a furious grunt, he snapped the weapon over his knee as Alyna stared, open mouthed. Her grandfather finally reacted by shouting, “Athanos! No!”

Athanos whirled on his father and shook the two bits of the bow. “No child of mine will be running around the forests like some peasant!”

“That’s utter nonsense, Athanos! The Farstriders are certainly not peasants, and have honourably defended Quel’Thalas for generations. They’re extremely talented at what they do.”

Alyna felt herself sink numbly into a chair as her father gestured at her. “Talent she lacks. Farstriders are as much bred as magisters are.”

Belo’vir also gestured at his granddaughter. “Young Alyna said she has been accepted by them. They don’t just take anyone. Sunwell knows Lady Lansor was in bits yesterday because her son was rejected, and he was winning competitions with his archery and combat skills.”

Her father snorted his disgust. “That ranger is clearly clueless then if the Lansor boy is not a good candidate but Alyna is.”

Her grandfather sighed. “Captain Windrunner knows what she is doing, I’m sure.”

“Alleria?” Alonso asked, confused. “She has more sense than to accept Alyna into the Academy.”

Belo’vir shook his head. “I believe it is Sylvanas, the younger sister, who is running the next Academy.”

“Well, that explains it then,” groaned her father. “She doesn’t exactly have a reputation for doing what is expected of her.”

“To exceptional results, Athanos. That is why she has advanced as rapidly as she has.” Belo’vir raised a hand and placed it on his son’s shoulder. “Don’t you think it is worth considering that if the most talented ranger of our time thinks your daughter has potential, that you should let her pursue this path?”

The hand was shrugged off. “No! We are magisters, Father! She will disgrace our bloodline and I will _not_ have it.”

Belo’vir gestured between the two of them. “ _We_ are magisters, Athanos. Alyna has no affinity.” He sighed. “It is time you accepted that. She is too old for that to change. She has to do something with her life, and this is a worthy path.”

Alyna felt tears slide down her cheeks, and she brushed them away. She was desperately hoping her grandfather could talk some sense into her father. And soon. Time was running out.

Athanos threw his hands in the air. “And what of her betrothal agreement? They will surely pull out of the contract if she chooses such a career.”

Her grandfather brushed away the argument. “That is already looking like it will collapse because of her lack of magic. At least this way, you’ll be able to find her a suitable husband within the Farstrider community. It would make our family look more inclusive.”

“It will _pollute_ our blood,” snapped her father.

“How in the Sunwell did you get such ridiculous notions? I certainly never taught them to you.” Belo’vir gave his son a troubled look.

Alyna cleared her throat, starting to get very nervous about the amount of time this was taking. “Grandfather, if I’m to report to the Captain, I need to go quickly.”

Belo’vir glared at his son. “Are you going to sign it, Athanos?”

“No,” came the firm reply.

The elder Salonar sighed as he gave Alyna an apologetic look. She blurted out, “You can sign it, Grandfather. If … you … wanted to.” She looked, and sounded, desperate. But he was her last chance.

“Father … don’t you dare,” came the low, angry tone from her father. “She’s _my_ daughter.”

Belo’vir walked over to the sideboard and retrieved a gold candle from the top drawer. He placed it on the table before Alyna and lit it with a gesture of his hand. He looked back at Athanos. “And you are my son. I did not raise you to stand in the way of my granddaughter’s happiness. As head of this family, I have every right to intercede.” He turned to look down at Alyna. “The form?”

She looked down at the flyer she had continued to hold the entire time. She flattened it out on the table, though the creases were generally beyond help now. Belo’vir dripped gold wax into a small pile in the bottom corner, and pressed a ring he was wearing into it. When he removed it, his unique seal was imprinted neatly into the wax.

Alyna was ecstatic.

Athanos was furious.

“Alyna Salonar! If you leave this house, do not expect to be welcome should you ever return!”

She looked up at her father. In that moment, she felt a small amount of sorrow for him. She couldn’t fathom why he was so bitter, but she needed to leave. She knew that fact as deeply as she knew the rangers were where she belonged.

“I’m sorry, Father. I have to go.”

Athanos swore, and left the room.

She looked up at her grandfather. He had a troubled look on his face as he watched his son leave, but he broke into a grin when he looked back at her.

He fondly put a hand on her burgundy head. “Go, follow your dreams, Alyna.”

She stood and wrapped her arms around him. She cried into his shoulder in gratitude, and he held her tightly. She managed to say, “I won’t let you down, Gran’pa.” She only used the familiar term for him in private, but she knew he loved the informality they shared.

“I know you won’t, precious. Now, you need to go hand that in. And don’t forget to write, okay? I want to know what adventures my favourite granddaughter is getting up to.”

She nodded, and gave him a kiss on his cheek. She grabbed the flyer, and ran upstairs to grab her bag. She had packed it yesterday in hope this chance would be given to her. Within minutes, she ran out the door and headed towards the compound at a full sprint.

She gasped for air as she charged through the gates, and skidded to a halt. The archery range was empty. Swallowing her panic, her legs burning with fatigue, she ran to the building she was interviewed in and knocked on the door.

No one answered.

Her panic started to rise again, and her breathing quickened but not due to her run. They had to be here. They just _had_ to be!

The stables! She turned and ran down a path that led to the back of the compound. Finally, she could hear voices laughing and talking. She flew into the stables, and to her great relief, she saw faces she knew had been waiting with her earlier in the day mixed in with about a dozen others. Ignoring the strange looks and demeaning comments at her appearance, she looked for the captain.

“Looks like you made it,” came the confident, smooth words of the woman who was about to not just make her day, but make her life.

“I g-got it!” She breathlessly stammered, holding out the heavily creased and abused flyer.

The captain took it, and looked at the signature. She raised an eyebrow at the seal of the grand magister, and then looked Alyna up and down with an appraising eye. With a slight smile, she looked over her shoulder and called to a stable boy. “Saddle up another horse, Halvar.”

“Yes, Captain!” came the reply.

Sylvanas turned back to Alyna, and gave her a beaming smile that made Alyna’s stomach flip with emotion. “You _can_ ride, can’t you?”

“Yes, Captain!” She almost shouted, unable to contain her happiness and excitement.

With an amused twinkle in her eye, Sylvanas gestured at the horse being led towards them. “Saddle up then, Alyna Salonar. You’re in for the ride of your life.”


End file.
